A Wandering Traveler

The Blog has Moved!

2011-02-27T15:18:00.001-05:00

My blog has moved to a new site. It is:

http://awanderingtraveler.wordpress.com/

I will leave this site up so you can read through the past blog postings from the last 2 years. I hope you continue to read and comment on my new site.

Blessings to you.
Traveler (Jeffery)

It lived up to the hype!

2010-10-26T00:07:00.000-04:00

"Understandably happy to be specific
When I'm snorkeled and finned
In the blue Pacific.
I admire the damsel fish
Feel terrific
As I float on the face
Of the blue Pacific."

Lyrics by from the song Blue Pacific by Michael Franks.

http://www.metrolyrics.com/blue-pacific-video-michael-franks.html

Alone and free, I felt completely at peace and at home, one with my liquid environs. Floating motionless, bathed in turquoise tranquility, not quite an intruder, uninvited yet included, I was nonetheless, for a moment or two, an aquatic participant in an choreographed display of color and movement and unity. I saw true community, each fish, differing in size, hue and species moving in unison with the pulse and rhythm of the waves and current. Never did they seem worried by the change in direction or bubbles or jostling. They belonged. And I wish I did.

I love snorkeling!

There is something unearthly about it yet the sense of effortless weightlessness is very appealing to me. I can't explain it. I feel completely at home in the surge of the ocean. All I could hear in my inner iPod was the song Blue Pacific by Michael Franks. Round and round it went.

Years ago, I had a lump under my ear. My mother took me to the Cleveland Clinic and was told by the doctor that I should have been a fish and in my evolutionary process that lump was a malfunctioned gill. My mother was fit to be tied! (It turned out to be a benign tumor.) But maybe the doctor was onto something. Maybe he was not as crazy as we thought at the time.

Did I say that I love snorkeling?

Our just completed eastern Caribbean cruise which helped Deborah and myself celebrate our 20th year of marriage was an unqualified success. The ship was great, the food was plentiful and delicious, the cabin stewards friendly and welcoming, the islands beautiful and called to us. We went to the Dominican Republic, St. Thomas and Tortola in the Virgin Islands and Great Stirrup Cay in the Bahamas. I was so amazed that many of the pictures I took looked liked shots in a travel magazine! It was truly beautiful and lived up to what I had heard and seen on the Travel Channel. One thing I truly believe is that I could live there year-round. All I need is a chance to prove that I am up to the task!

While I would love to draw some pithy spiritual insight, and I could, I won't. I'll just leave you with one picture...and they say it speaks a thousand words.

Wishing I was still Snorkeled and Finned!

Traveler

What's That In The Air?

2010-10-01T11:00:00.001-04:00

(Picture taken by my friend Larry Nielsen. )

Stepping outside morning as I was taking my daughter to an early morning babysitting job, I felt my senses assaulted.

But not in the usual way.

The usual way is a visceral blow to the entire body, a frontal attack of surrounding, sweating proportions. Humidity and heat are not my friend! The sudden sauna effect of Florida airspace. I am wilting again just at the memory!

Today was different.

Instantly, as I opened the front door, deliciously, my skin and senses were surrounded and caressed by cool, need I say, frigid (at least compared to the week's other mornings) bliss! Arrested for the moment, I stopped and breathed deeply. I think it has finally arrived, my friend, Autumn. Now before you think I have become delusional and unstable in thought (Yes, I know you already think that i am only stating the obvious), Autumn has arrived in Florida for the moment. I know, I know it will once again turn blisteringly hot and oppressive and sticky and sweaty and..... But just for the moment, the coolness wrapped like a garment around me and that little voice inside my head said:

"Why, Oh Why don't I live in Colorado?"

I was born for the mountains, lush pine trees, verdant fields and thinness of air. The flutter of hummingbirds wings in the dewy freshness of dawn's first light. The comforting aroma of hot, sweet coffee, my lone companion on the porch swing. The rosy hue, the tint of pure light welcomes me for another day above ground.

I think that Autumn holds such a place in my heart not because it conjures up memories past of school and football and hayrides and campfires but because it holds such promise for the months leading up to spring. Dark quiet cold mornings, wrapped in my blanket as I make my way to my prayer corner. Intimate times of communion and ancient prayers between my Creator and me. This season is the time to hunker down and recharge, refilling my soul with that which I will need for the journey. There seems to be more family time inside, deepening relationships around the dinner table and the game table. My time for catching up on the pile of books next to my bed, in my office, in the bathroom and on my iPod. Time for self reflection and dedication anew to the preparation for the coming season of Nativity and onward to the Resurrectional Hope in Pascha (Orthodox Easter).

As the seasons change around you, embrace them as a friend, dare I say, a lover. Hold tight for they will soon be past and only a memory. Daily Bread. That is what we are told to pray for. Each day holds promise and direction, grace and glory. Don't miss what you hold in your hand in anticipation of what your might be grasping at tomorrow.

Thinking about getting a sweater out!

Traveler

The Music of Memories

2010-03-17T22:15:00.003-04:00

In a recent blog posting by a fellow traveler, she put forth thoughts of what she “liked”. I liked the following bit very much. It’s a bit funny to me, ‘cause I was just thinking about that very thing a few days earlier, although in prose not quite as elegant.

“I like music that rifles through memories, unwrapping them from tissue and time, shaking them out, holding them at arms length, turning them slowly so you can see them in this time's light.”

Music is such a funny thing. That it can elicit such strong emotions and deep feelings is even more amazing. I mean you can’t even put handles on what you hear, can’t grasp it, wrestle with it or converse with it.

Yet….

It remains one of the most powerful forces on this earth.

It does the following:

…it stirs the depths of soul and creates yearning for the past and future, all at the same time.
…it creates palettes of tangible mind-color, allowing me to create masterpieces of cobbled-together memories, both brilliant and luxuriant in the good and ever darker pieces of remembered trial and travail in the less good.
…it grants access to visceral responses, long forgotten, yet stopping my heart and breath, just like the first time. Cold chills, lingered kisses, embarrassed responses.

I, being a lover of most things music (Rap and country excluded), have such a library of remembered thoughts attached to music in general and songs in particular that I find it almost impossible to listen to anything and not connect the dots to a very pervasive memory. Here are a few of the dots of what I mean:

When listening to either “The Vendor” by Ricardo Silveria or “Dragonfly Summer” by Michael Franks, I always think of my wife, sitting next to me at Gray’s Hotel in Manitou Springs, Colorado. The windows are open, breeze gently blowing the sheer curtains, the scent of rain, heavy. I can see the Rockies out the window and am slightly chilled by the whisper on the air. I am content and at peace, my heart full of love for my wife, the moment and the music. Indelibility etched on the fabric of my mind, the first sounds of the guitar take me there instantly.

I return to High School on the paths of Journey, especially the Escape album. I remember the feeling of promise for the future, the unknown vast and daunting. It feels familiar and safe. I know every riff of the guitar, clang of cymbal, thump of bass, wail of the vocals. I remember skipping school and standing in line for 8 hours to get Journey tickets. I remember selling them because the girl I was with didn’t want to go. Feelings of regret and loss, misspent youth. Time and event never to be repeated or regained.

I savor the music of Keith Green and Bob Bennett, Christian artists both. The wave of First Love for my Saviour rises and falls to the rhythms, rhymes and harmonies. “How Can They Live Without Jesus” by Keith Green has never, ever failed to move heart, even in my darkest moments. I can still sense the loss I felt when I first heard of Keith’s death. I never met him but felt like I knew him and I deeply grieved. He has so touched and shaped my life. I will see him one day. If I had a dime for everytime I played one of Bob’s songs I would be a rich man. Freshness and beauty, majesty and mystery always rise during a playing of “Mountain Cathedrals” or “Altar in the Field.” What an amazing songwriter and talented musician!

Tears of joy almost always spring forth when “Lifesong” by MercyMe is heard. I recall the hotel room I was in when my life began anew, after years of being A Wandering Traveler on the wide road that leads to destruction. Faithful prayers and family members, we never travel the path of Salvation alone. Guides, seen and unseen, line the path and light the way.

There are some people I will never, ever, tire of listening to: Pat Matheny, The Rippingtons, Bob Bennett, Michael Franks, Acoustic Alchemy, Duncan Sheik. The list goes on and on. I could listen to my ever-present iPod to infinity and still have memories to nourish my heart and soul with.

As my heart becomes more in-tune with the Master Musician, the strings of my heart, soul and body become more intertwined and easier to play. I believe that I am changing from being an electric with durable, steel strings to a classical with supple, nylon strings. Structured prayers, ancient hymns and lilting voices in unison draw me closer to the Maker. I become one with those around me, offering my all and my voice in supplication and thanksgiving, worshiping at the feet of Three in One who sings the life-giving hymn.

Hoping my “Lifesong” sings to Him.

Traveler

DeHungerize!

2010-02-11T23:53:00.004-05:00

I find that as I get older (which is every minute of the day) I discover that my attention span is getting shorter and shorter. I’m not sure if this has to do with age, loss of grey matter or greater attention to the details of life. I find myself taking longer and more circuitous mental routes when I read a book, article or blog. It seems to take FOREVER to finish a page, let alone a chapter. I find myself being inextricably being drawn to the minute and parsed, the “turn of phrase”, the “Oh, that was a marvelous/interesting/brilliant way to get your point across” phraseology. Yet I don’t really feel robbed of time. I feel like I have been given a gift, the opportunity to really chew up that piece of mental steak, the ability to wring the last precious drop of mental fluidity from someone else’s vast storehouse of useful and useless information.

Bits such as:

“They caught my eyes...the trees bedecked in white blossoms. They were lovely, lacey like a cotillion frock.”
Or
“I love that the trees cling to their frocks of cranberry, plum, fire, and tangerine days and weeks and months on end.”

I wonder why that is?

I feel like the guy sitting on the couch in the Snickers commercial wondering where all his hunger goes after he takes a bite of a Snickers bar. (It ends up somewhere in Germany.)

“DeHungerize!”

Maybe I have just needed to take smaller bites of the intellectual/ spiritual/ mature perspectives of others. I mean, isn’t that what we told our children to do when their cheeks were puffed out, distended to the utmost in an attempt to cram in every last morsel of delectable goodness?

Here are a couple of bits of what I mean:

“There is only one thing worse than blindness . . . having sight and no vision.”
Or
“I often feel I'm waiting on God to do something; answered prayer, doors of opportunity, spiritual breakthrough. Am I waiting on Him or is He waiting on me?”

I have so much to learn and digest and so little time! My mind seems like a sponge, sucking up every drop of life giving moisture, yet it doesn’t seem to make it into the instant recall bin. “Why can’t I remember what the guy or gal said? That was perfect!” I so long to be able to string all the amazing phrases together and sound absolutely brilliant and intelligent and look like the wizened traveler on the road of pilgrimage.

Pride? Maybe that why I can’t always remember them because I have enough problems with pride without others piling it on. I already have a too-inflated opinion of me.

Maybe it’s because it’s not necessarily for others? Maybe it is just for me, a gift from the Almighty Trinity, just for me, just for journey towards Salvation.

I really loved the Sci/Fi book series, “Dune.” Rich, textured and deep, this tome deals with so many levels of society: religion, politics, relationships, morality, ethics, ect. In the dry and arid desert world, the most precious commodity is water. One or two mouthfuls would sell for a great amount. It was traded above and below the marketplace, as legal and illegal tender. It was precious, not a thing to be wasted or squandered. The indigenous people even wore “stillsuits”, a portable moisture reclamation system they had on continually.

Precious and life giving was that moisture. They squandered not a drop, not one scintilla of it. It could be the difference between life and death.

I am finding my journey into Orthodoxy life giving and sustaining, vital and necessary, un-looked for and the end of my search. And it is coming to me in bits and pieces. Chunks to be chewed up, and every vital nutrient extracted.

All for my good and for my journey towards Salvation.

I feel more prepared for this journey. Thanks to my fellow writers and podcasters, my pilgrimage will be the richer and I will be a little better equipped. Step by step, line upon line, precept upon precept.

Taking increasingly smaller bites and chewing longer!
Traveler

Blogging 2.0

2010-01-13T23:45:00.003-05:00

As this is the start of a new year, a new start is in order for my blogging situation. No, this is not going to be a sappy posting about a New Year’s Resolution to fufill. Nevertheless, I have not posted to my blog since August of 2009, an almost 6-month dearth of postings. Dearth means an inadequate supply; scarcity; lack: as in “There is a dearth of good writing and consistent postings, numbskull.”

Believe it or not, I really, really love to write! In the way an artist catches his breath in the stroke of brush to canvas or when a musician massages the instrument and finds that perfect chord sequence, I gather exquisite joy from putting quill to parchment (or rather fingers to the keys of my Mac) and parsing word and phrase and nuance to create an expression of myself. Me in Blog form!

If this is so, you may ask yourself, why oh why the almost 6-month dearth (there is that word again) of a blog posting?

The answer is really very simple: Guilt.

Let me explain.

A long time back, I mean back a really long time early last year, I made a commitment to an excellent friend to help rewrite a study guide for a college church history class. Not a daunting project by any stretch of the imagination, just time consuming. And time has consumed much and I have only finished half of the project, despite numerous protestations of completion. My excellent friend is gracious and long-suffering and truly believes that I will finish the project. Which I will!

But 12-hour days and lots of hard work and less sleep conspire against me. I am sure many of you are familiar with the phrase, “The Spirit is willing but the Flesh is weak.” I embody that phrase. This is not whining, just the truth. “Just the facts, ma’am, Just the facts.”

This leads me to the guilt thingy. Since I cannot seem to keep to a consistent schedule of question writing, I put it off and keep putting it off and keep putting it off. This naturally leads to me not doing the thing I really love: writing. I, in good conscience, cannot blog about anything in my leisure time because this giant church history book sits there looking at me, begging to be read and questioned and dissected. Kinda like that semi-creepy Geico stack of money with giant eyeballs.

IT SEES ME!

Enter my good friend, Barbara from California. She, of recently starting her own blog, Facebooked to me,

“So I check and check and Jeff is not posting on his blog...no musing, no meandering mind gems...sigh........sigh.......

I responded with the guilt thingy and she said…

“OK! Sit down and LISTEN TO ME. (well -- read this, anyway) Writing begets writing...guilt dries up the creative stream....I KNOW you know this. Blog about the course you are rewriting! Surely there must be SOMETHING that made you ponder as you read it to rewrite it. Thinking and writing GIVE you energy. Guilt and procrastination drain you! I KNOW you know this!!!!!

I responded, “Yes I do know this. Thank you for the verbal swift kick in the pants. I will do my best to turn the tap on and try to post something by the weekend! Good start to your blogging career!

What friendship had wrought in me! As I looked back to my productive stretch of question writing, I saw that I had indeed done a number of postings at the same time. Maybe Barbara was on to something!

So this is the first posting of the year and will not be the last. I have had something ruminating around in my grey matter for some time and will work to put it into a series of postings. For the past couple of years I have been on an extraordinary journey of faith that I will relate in great detail and prosaic style.

I hope to see you (and read your comments) along the way!

Glad for Butt-Kicking Friends!

Traveler

Consuming Beauty

2009-08-04T20:02:00.003-04:00

While traveling home from a job in the panhandle of Florida, I was listening to my ever-present and trusty companion, my iPod. As my thumb was a blur on the click wheel, I happened to stop on and listen to a song by Stevie Nick called Trouble in Shangrai-La. Now before you condemn me for my choice of music, at least have the good grace to read my post, leave a comment then condemn me for my taste in music. Deal?

One line of the song said this:
"You can consume all the beauty in the room, baby. I know you can. I've seen you do it."

No matter how many times I listen to this song, that phrase always strikes me and always sets me to thinking down the same well-traveled path.

Am I like that?

Do I come waltzing into a room and, like a black hole in space, suck all the life and beauty from it?
Does the chatter quiet down, gazes avert and subjects change?
Do smiles seem genuine or contrived?
Does my personality overwhelm others and change the chemistry and makeup in the room?
Do the lights of others dim upon my arrival? (And by that I don't mean that my light is brighter or better).

We all know people like that. An old room-mate, a high-school acquaintance, a relative or fellow church member. It seems like they have that unique ability to blanket a room with pessimism, uncharitable comments and despair.

Or am I like a supernova or exploding star, expanding the universe of that particular room, filling it with life, conversation, brightness, laughter, hopefulness and the light of Christ.

I am, after all, called a "light of the world." Are others blinded by the light in me or burned by the flame in my life and want to snuff it out? Or are they drawn to it like a "moth to the flame."

Are others consumed by the resident love of God in my heart or are they consumed by my pettiness, gossip and prejudice?

I don't know that I have the answers.

Sometimes I feel like I am a beacon of truth and righteousness, the image of the Most High stamped on my visage. Sometimes I believe that the flawed and tarnished fallen me is on display, like a side show freak. People are simultaneously drawn and repelled. What will it take for them to see past the exterior to the place of peace that resides in my heart?

We all love the consuming power of a masterpiece of art or an enveloping cocoon of a brilliant musical score. We are moved to recognize the hand of the Almighty, whether or not that is intent of the artist.

All I can do is pray that my nature will be changed so that I will not be one who is consuming beauty but rather a purveyor of the beauty that consumes. That beauty is the love of Christ.

"Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven." Matthew 5:16 NKJV

More Beast than Beauty.
Traveler

Her Fingerprints

2009-06-26T22:09:00.004-04:00

Time and tide wait for no man and I, being a man, have missed numerous opportunities to put my thoughts into blog form. But not today. My ship is already under way.

I was recently reading an article about one of my favorite ministers, Timothy Keller of Redeemer Presbyterian of New York City. I think he is one of the most brilliant biblical expositors of our time. But this post is not about him. It is about something that was said about him. It was in reference to his relationship with his wife. It was this:

“He (Tim) really depends on her…..He is inexplicable apart from her. She has her fingerprints all over his brain, and I mean that in a good way.”

Once again, I felt myself stopped in my tracks and, re-reading that phrase, “She has her fingerprints all over his brain”, came to a conclusion.

Timothy Keller and I have something in common.

I am, too, am inexplicable apart from my wife Deborah and she definitely has her fingerprints all over my brain. And it is definitely in a good way!

As I mulled over that phrase, letting myself soak in its meaning, like a excellent marinade that surrounds a steak (I have sometimes been likened to a “Meat Head”), I realized just how impacted my life has been by my wife. Not that I have taken her for granted these last 20 years or have been oblivious to her impact in my life but those words, “She has her fingerprints all over his brain”, seem to take on a new and deeper meaning and certainly gave me pause for thought.

I realized that many of the conclusions and precepts that I thought were my own were really hers. They have just been adopted and are now claimed as “my own.’ I guess we are all like that in every area. None of us has an original thought. Everything that we “discover” has already been discovered, dissected, written about, taught on and lived out, long before we were even born. So ultimately I am a product of all that have gone on before me.

Before I drift too far away from my main point, let us cast a rope back towards my wife’s impact on my life and secure it for the rest of the blog posting.

I love how some turn of phrase can capture your whole attention and take you down and back on paths that had been forgotten or pushed deep into your psyche. I can remember times and conversations that we have had over the years which have shaped the way I think or view life, both physical and spiritual. I, if you know me well, know that I can be very convinced of my “rightness”. I will cling to that raft of “rightness” lest I am overturned and found wanting for intelligence or correct perspective.

But my wife has that ability to flip my lifeboat and dunk me into the waters of reality, then throws me a lifeline, which is secured to her perspective, maturity and stableness. She has that ability to see though me and discern between the crap and the truth. And all the time she is still loving me, in spite of my grandiose style and verbose manner.

“She has her fingerprints all over my brain.”

I recently listened to a podcast where the idea was discussed that marriage is part of the salvation process. Not that any work other that Christ’s death saves me but rather that salvation is a lifelong process. Earthly marriage is a type and shadow of what we can expect when we are united together in Christ. Should it not be a joyous union of heart, mind and soul? 1 Corinthians 7:16 states, ”For how will you know, O wife, whether you will save your husband? Or how do you know, O husband whether you will save your wife?” The implication is that she is part of the process in helping me to understand what my union with the Holy Trinity will be like.

None of us come to salvation by ourselves. There is always someone else there who leads or speaks or models Christ and thus we are drawn. It is in the community of believers that we work out the process of salvation.

I believe that my marriage to Deborah is part of the process of me “working out my salvation with fear and trembling”. My wife is part of that process which removes the stain of “me” and slowly helps me change into the image of God. We are all created in the image of God, thus we are “icons” or images of God. But sin and evil tarnish us. And by my wife being in my life, she is a part of the process where I am being restored into a beautiful, perfectly spotless icon of God.

“Be ye therefore perfect, even as I am perfect.” Matthew 5:48

It is a process that I do not believe will be completed on this earth but is designed to prepare me for the eternal presence of God. He is coming back for a spotless bride.

I still have some cleaning up to do (with my wife’s help).

Still being fingerprinted after all these years!
Traveler

My Take on Facebook

2009-03-22T18:02:00.026-04:00

(Sorry. The usual funny and cynical picture I start off each blog with cannot be found. I can't seem to understand iPhoto, yet. So instead, you are treated to a recent picture of me with my two beautiful daughters, Lauren (15, on the left) and Lindsay (13, on the right). The ugly guy in the middle is in the witness protection program. He has no name. Only a Facebook picture.)

As I sit in the airport terminal, waiting on my delayed flight to Houston for another 2-week round of gainful employment, I have decided to work on something that has been long neglected: My Blog. As most of you know, my last posting was rather long with the story of Daniel, the son of friend who has passed on and beat us to the portal of Heaven. If you missed it, (the post, not Heaven) it is worth your time. The story is compelling, true and impacted my life. Many of you responded with similar words of how it impacted you.

I remind you of this because of my next post. I learned much about Daniel because of an update in Facebook. So my latest installment of pontification will be on that very subject.

Facebook is such an amazing phenomenon. It has impacted people from all stripes of society. It connects friends and business people alike, relinking old acquaintances and has seemed to revolutionize the way we communicate. While the number of people that have joined the legions of Facebookers is truly astonishing, few have stopped to ask the most pressing of questions.

Should the phenomenon of Facebook be happening at all?

Like a Blooming Onion at Outback, this question is at once delectable and tantalizing, oily and too hot to eat at once. It definitely cannot be eaten quickly, lest a burnt mouth and clogged arteries slow the progress. The question has recently kept me up at night, pondering its many layers and levels. Let me start by unpacking my Facebooking experience.

My children, as with most children in this age, are probably over saturated with technology and the need to know. They have Mac computers, are internet savvy, text on their cell phones with great alacrity and can program my DVR better than I can. Homework research takes a fraction of the time it did for me when I needed to write a paper in 9th grade (that's 1979 for those of you trying to do the math.)

"Dad, Dad! I just have to be on Facebook! ALL my friends are? Can I get an account?" Or so my recollection goes. "What is Facebook and who really cares?" Yes, children can be as persistent as that nagging head cold or a leaky faucet. So I, like the good over-protective father that I am, checked it out. In order for me to even "check it out," I had to create an account before I looked under the hood. I felt I did my due diligence and spent quite a bit of time "checking it out."

Perhaps too much time.

I was amazed! People I had not heard of for many years somehow found me and wanted to be my "friend." Valuable time that I could have spent elsewhere was now consumed by this desire to check out old friends and see what they were up to. Old college roomates, ex-girl friends, forgotten business collegues and old church members suddenly were found and presented themselves for inspection.

WOW! What a way to catch up on 20 years of history that passed our relationships by. Some people I knew about and others I had not seen in over 2 decades. That was how I learned about Daniel, the subject of my last post. It was through his father's Facebook page and a seeming inconsequential remark about missing Daniel. What I learned shook me to the core and left an indelible impression.

And so it went on as I learned much about my past alliances and friendships, many created long ago under very different circumstances. Different times and places, myself a different person. Picture and comments, links to websites and Status Updates gave me, sometimes, a clear snapshot of what that person had been doing for so long.

Marriages, growing families, world travels and business projects all performed to create a tapestry of their lives. Some I wished I had kept in contact. Some I was glad that I had not. But most made me feel a little more complete, like the resumption of a good book, put down in the middle to finish later.

And before I had said "Yes" to my girls becoming a Facebook member, I found myself swept up in the vortex know as Facebook.

Facebook is a sword that cuts both ways. I find that it somehow satisfies a voyeuristic tendency to be in the know about someone without them even knowing that I know. I can learn many things about them and their past just by reading their Profile, looking at their pictures or seeing who their friends are. I now have many more Facebook friends that were once old friends of mine, just by looking to see who their Facebook Friends are. It's kinda creepy, in a good sort of way.

But at the same time, it reminds me that I am no longer in close contact or proxmitiy with them. With some I was very close. But due to the modern problem of moving around the country alot, I have lost touch with and both they and I moved on. I regret not keeping up some of the friendships, people who added much to my life. They were there during formative stages of my growth, both physically, mentally and spiritually. I see the posted pictures of their lives and wish that I was in one of them, a reminder that my presence mattered, even if long ago.

But time waits for no man and the path many of us take is in different directions, the result of the leading of God and sometimes, our rebellions.

So I guess I see Facebook as a complex subject, a natural outworking of our post-modern times. A place to contact others without really saying much, a way to stay informed anonomously and without obligation. I also see it as new platform to let many of my friends know what is going on, right now, in my life. A way for both of us to live vicariously through our words and pictures. A vehicle in which I can be remembered and prayed for and thought of, if only for the span of a "What are you doing now" moment.

So look and comment, but always, reply and pray for.

Posting on my new-look Facebook page, (not sure I like yet),
Traveler

The First Post of the 2009 Year.

2009-01-31T18:41:00.029-05:00

Warning: This posting will be much longer than normal and is intended to be read in its entirety. Enter at your own risk!

My blog posting drought has finally come to an end. This drought was not caused by unnatural means but by natural ones: work related travel, Christmas in another state (with limited access the internet), weeks of sickness and more work related traveling. The desire was there but the flesh was weak. I have a list of topic on which I want to pontificate on and none are coming to the light of day as of yet except for one which has been running around in my mind and heart since before the holidays. So without further adiue, my posting for your educational, mental, and spiritual enjoyment.

Back in December, I was in Houston in a hotel on work related business. I was up at 4am this particular morning. Not because I particularly wanted to be up at that hour, but my alarm had gone off and it was time to rise. I had to be at work by 6am and had been doing my best to get in some quiet time before the everydayness settled in. I usually try to spend 45 min to an hour a day in devotion with the Daily Office from the Book of Common Prayer. My structure and guidance and devotion for the day. Prayer and scripture to set me on the right path. I turned my computer on and struggled to wipe the sleepiness from my eyes and the fogginess from my brain.

"Too soon to start devotions just yet..... I can't focus...... I need to wake up a bit......maybe perusing Facebook will be the ticket to a greater state of wakefulness."

The computer whirled and beeped and up popped my homepage on Facebook.
At the top of my page, I clicked on the Home tab, which for all of you non-Facebookers, lets me see all of the current updates posted by my other Facebook friends.

The first one I saw was from an old college friend with whom I had just recently reconnected with via Facebook. Rob Duncan was his name. He had married a gal, Karen Garman, who I had been friends with at college. Now they are Mr. and Mrs. Rob and Karen Duncan. I had neither seen nor heard from either one in over 20 years. Until that day.

On his Facebook page, Rob had posted the following: Rob is missing Daniel very badly today.

"Who was Daniel and why should Rob be missing him badIy?" I thought to myself. I knew lots of Daniels. It is not an uncommon name. My pastor's name is Daniel, I had recently been reading about the Daniel in the Bible, I have friends who lives in Rome, Georgia and in Los Angeles whose sons are named Daniel. What made this Daniel so special?

Like a semi-pro Facebooker, I took it upon myself to find out who this Daniel was.
Was he a friend? Was he a colleague? Was he a son? Why was he missed? Was he on a trip? Was he away at school or a friends house? Too many questions and not enough answers in Rob's short posting. Sensing more behind the short little statement, I clicked my mouse.

That one click affected me profoundly.

Not satisfied with the small amount of info on Rob's Facebook page concerning this mysterious "Daniel", I eventually located a link at the bottom of Rob's Info page, in the Groups I Belong to section.

RIP Daniel Duncan.

I clicked again. My journey began.

Initially, it was a pictorial journey with 60 or so photos, pictures of a life, full and varied, interesting and with great promise, full of laughter and joy. Daniel playing the piano, Daniel acting in a play, Daniel at school, Daniel with his friends, Daniel with his family, Daniel full of smiles and jokes. Daniel riding his bike.

By the end of the slide show, I felt like I had a better picture of who Daniel was even though I had never met him. It is amazing what pictures can convey about a person. He was the son of Rob and Karen and seem to be living the typical American teenager lifestyle. He was their oldest and the torchbearer of the Duncan name. He seemed well adjusted and well loved, a fun-loving intelligent kid. Great. But my question was still unanswered.

Why did it say "Rob is missing Daniel very badly today?"

As I continued my search for the answer, I eventually ran across this:

Daniel was hit by a car when riding his bike. They say that it happened instantly and if there's any blessing at all, that would be it. I pray that he didn't suffer at all. I love you Daniel.

A cold chill ran down my spine as the enormity of what had recently taken place began to sink in.

Rob is missing Daniel very badly today.

The 7 words written on the screen of my Facebook page hit me like a moving car, because once, long ago, I was hit by a truck and it changed the course of my life.

Rob was missing Daniel very badly today, because he would never see him again in this lifetime, here on this green earth. His son was gone.

My thoughts instantly ran to my children. Were they OK? Would I see them again? What would I say on my Facebook page if one of my girls were taken from me without the opportunity of saying goodbye?

My daily devotional time had taken a very different turn.

I continued my journey as I searched for more information about Daniel. He had now become much more that just a one-dimensional face on a digital picture. He was now flesh and bone, laughter and joy. There was a growing sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach because I too, am a dad. The bond between a parent and their children is very powerful, strengthened by faith, discipline, hugs and conversation. Lots of conversation.

I suddenly felt a tremendous kinship with Rob and Karen, those who I had not spoken to or thought much about over the last 20 years. My heart went out to them, felt just a tad of their pain and loss and I didn't know what to do about it.

Link after picture after posting after eulogy gave me fuller sense of the young man, Daniel. He was so full of promise, loved by everyone who met him. touching in tangible and intangible ways all who crossed his path. He was in drama, could play the piano like Van Cliburn, rode his bike all over creation, played with his siblings. He was the one everyone wanted to be like. Everything you'd expect from one so recently graduated from high school and into the first weeks of college.

But the greatest thing that seemed to be said about him was that he loved and served God.

As I read and read, I found my self laughing with joy and weeping with a profound sense of untimely loss.

All over a teenager I never met.

He was struck and killed by a car while he was riding the bike he so loved. He was only into the 2nd or 3rd week of college. He barely had time to unpack and get settled into the routine of higher education. He had received a music scholarship and was beginning his journey as a man.

I clicked on a link that lead me to his personal website. The second posting has this heading:

Let my lifesong sing for You.

My throat constricted, I felt my chest tighten and tears clouded my vision, for that song has personal and deep meaning for me. For a while in my life, I had left the Path of God and that particular song, "Lifesong" by Casting Crowns, was a turning point for me in my journey back to God. It has become my personal anthem. It was even the ringtone on my cell phone. And to see it on a now-dead young man's blogsite shook me to the core. Our whole life should be as an instrument on which our lifesong is played out to the Lord. And from all accounts, Daniel let his Lifesong sing unto his God and the world.

This was apparently the last text message that he sent a few hours before his earthly departure:

LOVE YA One morning you will never wake up Do all your friends know you love them? I was thinking...I could die today, tomorrow or next week, And I wondered if I had any wounds needing to be healed, Friendships that needed rekindling, or three words needing to be said. Let every one of your friends know you love them. Even if you think They don't love you back, you would be amazed at what those three little words and a smile can do. And just in case GOD calls me home before I see you again...... I LOVE YA!!! Send this to at least 8 people you love and send it Back to the person Who sent it to you.Live today to the fullest because tomorrow is not promised!

I think of Daniel as a shooting star - brilliant in its path across the heavens, rocketing there in the clear sky, affecting its surroundings with its brilliance, then disappearing forever before we have had a chance to truly enjoy it. We will never see it again, but we will never forget it.
People still talk about Haley's Comet although none are alive who have ever seen it. I believe Daniel will have that same lasting impression on all who gazed upon him, however fleetingly. Thought the ground is still fresh, I believe that Daniel's death will not have been in vain. The Bible says that unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies..... Daniel's, "Falling Asleep", as the Orthodox like to say, has and will continue to bear much and lasting fruit.

He will not be forgotten, at least not by me, because I will forever be marked by my crossing with Daniel.

One's life rarely gets the scrutiny in life that it does in death. Shouldn't our retrospectives be ongoing and not retroactive? I once had a pastor friend who died in an auto accident. He pastored a little tiny church up in the mountains above L.A. 2000 people showed up at his funeral. I was astonished at how many people were touched by this man, my friend. I didn't know.

Rob said that the same happened at Daniel's funeral. In such a short life, he touched the multitudes. What an example he set for all to see. I can only hope that the same will be said of me at my passing.

I found myself profoundly moved in the depths of my soul. For days afterward, I thought long and hard about Daniel and about how to put my thoughts into words. Even at the end of this piece, the words still seem unable to do justice to the way I feel inside. Though this happened to me at the end of last year, I still found myself fighting tears and intense feelings even as I wrote this.

And all because I clicked on a link in Facebook at 4 am. in an attempt to wake up. That day, an alarm was set to remind me of a meeting, in the future, that I will have with a special young man.

RIP Daniel Duncan 'till we meet one day on the other shore. I look forward to getting to know you a little better.

Traveler

The following are some of the links to get to know Daniel a little bit better.

http://piano-boy.blogspot.com/
http://lilies-of-the-field.blogspot.com/
http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=24031074379

The Black Prince of Crecy

2008-12-09T22:13:00.012-05:00

During this past summer, my family and I spent a few days in Savannah, Georgia. We love Savannah! With the tall oaks dripping with Spanish moss, square after square of restored mansions and homes, a sense of history and timelessness. While there, one of the many things we did was go to the Telfair Museum of Art. It is a wonderful art museum composed of three diverse sites - the original building, the Telfair Academy of Arts and Sciences, a National Historic Landmark building; the Owens-Thomas House, also a National Historic Landmark; and the Jepson Center for the Arts, a contemporary building which houses 20th- and 21st-century art.

As you know, I am a lover of all things art (with the possible exception of most modern art-yuck) and do my utmost to visit an art museum in whatever city I happen to find myself in, should a window of opportunity open. I feel that I have passed this love onto my girls, who also love art museums, especially Lauren. There is such a wonderful feel to an art museum. It is cool and quiet and gives you lots of time to reflect, ponder and think. It smells of ancient things, of people and times long gone. The feeling of history is palatable. I feel a true sense of peace and well being.

We started in the original building, the Telfair Academy of Arts and Sciences. It had many older pieces, many of them pertaining to old Savannah and local artists. Marvelous! At the back of museum, there is a very large room, both in depth, height and breadth. There is a huge dome sitting atop the room. There is such a sense of space in this room. It's walls are filled with very large canvases from various artists and time periods. It was truly breathtaking in scope. But on one wall, hanging between heaven and earth, was a piece that made me stop in my tracks.

The Black Prince of Crecy.

I was absolutely captivated by it! It was huge- 11 feet high by 17 feet long! I was completely drawn into it. You can see for yourself the little picture at the top of the blog post but it in no way does it the justice it deserves. It was a visceral experience for me. I could feel the wind blowing the withers of the horse, the grass on the ground, the clouds in the air, the standard whipping. The blood seeping into the ground, the arrival of the carrion crows and vacant sheen of the horse's eye. It was as though I had just come upon this scene and stood there dumbstruck, unsure what to make of it.

In the middle stood the Black Price of Crecy. What was he thinking? Was he gloating over his vanquished foe, speaking words of victory and cursing the dead. Or was he silent on the field of victory, paying homage to a worthy king, a valiant foe in defeat. Maybe he, as the Black Prince, was just now feeling the weight of kingship slip onto his shoulders as he gazed down at his father, the White King. Feelings of loss, remorse for things unsaid, new-found authority pressing heavy on his breast. Oh, to be there and ask, "What are you thinking, my Liege?" I must have stood there for 20 minutes and gazed and thought and mused.

Sometimes I wish that I had been born in a different era, a time long past where there was a clearer demarcation between right and wrong, a greater sense of nobility and virtue, the greater cause to which we saddle up and march forth to battle. My lovely Lauren, sensing how much I enjoyed this piece and wanting to preserve the moment for posterity's sake, purchased a mouse pad and 2 foot by 3 foot print as a Fathers Day gift for me. I was very surprised and grateful. Deep love expressed in tangible ways. It hangs on the wall in my office. I see it almost every day. Not only does it remind me of that special day last summer but speaks to me of virtue, responsibility and cause. I carry it's spirit with me, one of victory and hope, at great cost.

It reminds me of other battles I fight, in other, higher realms. Spiritual and unseen, it is more real that real life.

A Black Prince in the army of the King of Kings.
Traveler

Walking in Circles

2008-12-09T19:36:00.005-05:00

I had just started my daily devotional. I follow the Daily Office from the Book of Common Prayer and utilize the following website:
http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html.

The Opening Sentence was the following:
In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Isaiah 40:3

I did not even get started before I was stopped in my tracks. Sometimes a phrase or bit of Scripture has that unique ability to say volumes in just a few words. I read and re-read this sentence numerous times, chewing on it like a cow. This is the rabbit trail my thoughts took.

So many times in my life, I have found myself in the back side of the desert, sometimes because of self-exile and sometimes because I was led there. It seem that I have spent much time wandering in the wilderness, just like the people of Israel, wandering with no clear or discernible course. The above Scripture exhorts me to "prepare the way of the Lord."

Prepare the way of the Lord in the wilderness? What do you mean? I can't even seem to find my own way, let alone the "way of the Lord." Yet that is what I am told to do.

It goes on to say, "Make straight in the desert a highway for our God."
Straight! How can I make anything straight when all I seem to be doing is walking (and sometimes running) in circles? Lapping the mountain yet again! The straightest line between two points for me seems to include a few 90 and 180 degree angles and lots of back-tracking to see if I can find the point where I last lost the trail.

Yet scripture clearly gives me a path, so to speak, out of the desert. It happens when I prepare the way for the Lord by making a straight highway for God to get straight to me. I mean, isn't there a reason that I'm in the desert? Could it be that God has led me there to straighten out things in my life, things that make me crooked and bent? My cry is that I become more like Him. But when He takes me on a tour of the backside of the desert, I want off of the tour bus.
It is my job to prepare to meet my maker in the here and now.

Preparation takes lots of hard work.

Have you ever been to the desert? I have. Its hot as you know where, dry with not a drop of water and goes on for what seems like eternity. And most roads seem to go, well, you guessed it, straight. Why? To get across it as fast as you can! Virtually no one I know wants to spend any more time than necessary there. Yet I seem almost always take the longest route possible. Creating a road in the desert is dusty, hard, back-breaking work. Digging in unforgiving rock, the pick ax, heavy in my hand, causing blisters and gives me splinters.

But my heart is hard and it takes a long time to soften it up for use.

Since I have lots of time invested in the desert, I can speak as an experienced guide. I have learned that my time in the desert is not necessarily wasted. I have learned what plants I can get nourishment from, the location of the secret watering holes, greatly appreciating the occasional rain storm which bring refreshing and life-giving moisture. This moisture in turn causes the desert to bloom into valleys of gorgeous color and fragrance. I have become more attuned to the rhythm of the seasons, which have brought a restfulness and patience to my hurried and busy life, my bruised and battered soul. By slowing down, I can hear God more clearly.

Don't be too eager to find the escape route from your place in the desert. In your haste to leave, you may miss the best parts!

Glad I got past that Opening Sentence!
Traveler

Blogging: Thoughts on

2008-12-02T20:49:00.007-05:00

Once again, I have found that out how hard being a faithful blogger is. A myriad of topics to choose from, a plethora of starts and stops and finally.....

Aw, maybe tomorrow.

Sometimes I feel that I have so many vital and noteworthy comments and witty observations. These usually hit me as I am driving in my car or just minutes from falling asleep, neither situation lending itself to pounding on my keyboard. And when inspiration and time coalesce to create a riff in the time-space continuum, I just sit and stare at the screen, willing myself to put the first keystroke on a masterpiece of creativity and expenditure of gray matter.

This is what Van Gogh or Renoir or Toulouse-Latrec must have felt like as they stared at blank canvas and tried to decide on which type of brush, what kind of paint, what medium to create in, what object to immortalize on the texture of canvas. I'm sure that what they envisioned did not always materialize when they put the brush down.

That is how I feel sometimes.......lost in the translation from my brain to the blog.

Once in a while, lighting strikes! And in moments, a lucid, coherent stream of intelligent, meaningful, articulated thought becomes immortalized on my blog site, to be read and re-read and forwarded onto others who we think will both enjoy and gain benefit from it.

Oh, why can't I be diligent and faithful to myself and you and post on a regular basis!

The encroachment of time, sickness, tiredness, laziness, children, work, my wife, hunger and football. All conspires against me, preventing me from bursts of productiveness. I allow myself to be swept up in the "Now"ness of the moment. The "Tyranny of the Urgent" saps the energy from the stream of thoughts out of my head on its way to my keyboard.

Are we talking about my blog or my life?

Sometimes, I'm not sure I can tell the difference.

The way I see myself is not always what others see. Sometimes they see the best in me, but many times, the ugly is more prevalent. The image I think I am projecting is many times lost and distorted by my words and actions. What I am trying to say on the canvas of my life is not always what others perceive.

I feel like a canvas, on display for all to see, unable to shape the ideas others have about me. Some of those ideas please me, some make me want to be taken off the display wall and hidden in the basement vault.

Or maybe a better analogy is me as a 1080 dpi Sony Flat Screen TV. I project whatever I want to others so that they will like me, think well of me and want to befriend me. I wish I could control what others see but I have surrendered the remote control. So my channel can't be changed, no matter how hard I try.

I am seen for who I am.

Sometimes a hero, saint and friend, sometimes a villain, sinner and a traitor.

Thank be to God that I have hope! While I will never be all that I want to be, in Christ I will never be less than a son of the Most High, forgiven and ever in a process of change. I do not hold the brushes which paint on the canvas of my life and I know who holds the remote control.

Thank God it's not me!

A Work in Progress!
Traveler

Addendum to "Thoughts on the "The Election"

2008-11-10T19:57:00.002-05:00

I have received a number of comments on my last post about the election. Perhaps some clarification is needed.

I in no way want it to be construed that I am not thinking this election through, only responding from anger and disappointment. I am using the lens of my christian worldview.

Yes, I believe that God is still on the throne.
Yes I believe that the the heart of kings are in the Hand of God.
Yes, I believe that this is may be a time of shaking and sifting in our collective national soul.

While I am not shaken as a Christian and my spiritual foundations remain strong and steady, I am angry as a voter, a Republican, a Conservative, a father and a citizen of both Heaven and Earth.

My friend, the Really, Righteous, Rev. Hanner had a recent post on antagoniz.com where the statistic cited was that less that 1/3 of our nation considered themselves "church goers." And this was in 2001! Imagine what it is today. We are witnessing the steady erosion of our cultural and spiritual morals. And the tide isn't turning in our direction. This is evidenced by the outcome of the recent Presidential election. Our country is shifting to the left, dragging the center and Right with it.

And the Right continues to get smaller and less effective.

I know that in the end, it doesn't matter. God's will will be done. But I just don't feel like joining in and celebrating the Democratic victory. However long God tarries, I still must make account for what I do during the time and in the space I occupy. I am still to be salt and light in a dying and darkening world.

Sunday in church, the New Testament reading was the passage about the 10 wise and 10 foolish virgins. I pray that I will do my utmost to keep my lamp full, ever watchful and ready for his return. I will continue to possess the land that I am in and, though I may sometimes complain and holler, I will continue to pray and be a faithful witness and keep to my place in the wall!

Look Busy! Jesus is coming!
Traveler

Thoughts on "The Election"

2008-11-08T09:33:00.010-05:00

With the sting of defeat still resonating in the depths of my being, I thought now would be a good time to put thoughts to blog posting. I have posted 4 pictures this time instead of the normal 1. Take a moment to re-read them and let the sentiments sink into your conscienceness.

They sum up what I feel.

I do not look forward to the changes that this new administration and congress will impose upon the nation. I believe that we find ourselves in this position because of what my side, the Republicans, failed to do during the 8 years of the Bush administration. Admittedly, we were somewhat distracted by the war in Iraq, but we failed to do anything about taxes, Social Security, immigration and the border, the drug trade and jobs going overseas. And now it will be many years before we get that chance again.

We lost because our leaders abandoned Conservatism. We didn't, in the words known in Texas, "Dance with the one who brung you." We allowed ourselves, once again, to get sidetracked with the notions of fairness and being liked by the Left and the media. We have forgotten that no matter what we do as Conservatives, we will never be accepted or liked by the Left. They stand opposed to all that we believe in and base our principles on. We pandered to the Left's desire for unity, forgetting that their notions of "Unity" consists of me forgetting and leaving behind all of my Conservatism and becoming a Democratic Leftist. Being popular is more important that being right.

Which brings me to my next point. Having clear policies and a real understanding of government and leading is not a requirement for being POTUS (President of The United States). Because of the ignorance and shallowness of many of the voters in our country, Style won over Substance. Promising that " 95% of Americans will pay no taxes" still seems to be as effective as "a chicken in every pot" did a few decades ago. Our culture, accustomed to handouts of any kind, seemed loathed to bite the hand that feeds it. Rather, it just voted to continue the culture of corruption, big government and higher taxes with the belief that Government, not hard work and lower taxes, is the answer to the problem.

Many on the Left and some on the Right, on the day after the coronation of the Messiah, His Majesty Barak, gave forth the clarion call for all to come together and work for the common good.
I, for one, have no interest in "Unity" for Unity's sake. How can I "come together" and support those whose policies I vehemently opposed during the election? Just because the Democrats won does not mean that I agree with them on anything. I didn't before and I still don't now. If that makes me a sore loser, then so be it. I cannot join with them in the propagation of abortion, gay marriage, higher taxes, greater government intrusion, less privacy, decreased religion freedom and a weaker military.

Which begs the question. Must I be a gracious and compliant loser?

NO! And again I say, NO! I must not lie down and take the beating the Left feels I rightly deserve. I say NO to the spread of Socialism in my country. I say NO to the abandonment of Reagan and Conservatism. 57 million voters said NO at the polls. I was one of them. I will continue to stand for the principles that made this country great and I will trumpet the values, both Biblical and governmental, which make this the greatest nation on God's green earth. I will pray and study and be ready for mid-term elections in '10 and to cast my vote again in 2012 for real "Change."

Will you be ready?

Still smarting from the Chicago-style mob whacking!
Traveler

What was I thinking? - Part 2

2008-10-13T19:08:00.003-04:00

I always appreciate the comments that others leave in response to my blog. And sometimes its important to pass them on. These two arrived today and I thought posting them would be helpful and instructive. They come from 2 different parts of our great land, the first from Richard in the swamps of Georgia and the second from Margot in the Pacific Northwest. Thanks for your sage comments.

Excellent Post Bro, Appreciate the charactered candor. I hope your readers will follow your insightful anaysis. A wise man learns from experience-A wiser man learns from someone else's!
Richard

Hi Jeff,
I too got duped into seeing the Dark Knight. I came home so mad and up set it took me most of what was left of the evening to settle down. I based my decision on going on the previous Bat Man movies. What I ended up seeing was 2.5 hours of non stop senseless violence. As if violence ever really makes sense. The violence in this movie was not violence with even a motive but simply for the sake of destruction. This film was unbelievably dark.

So as I searched my heart to see if there was anything of redeeming value as a result of that experience. All I could come up with was that it was a wake up call for how dark our world has become. We as believers need to burn much brighter.

"All that's necessary for the forces of evil to win in the world is for enough good men to do nothing."
- Edmund Burke

It is time to be out shining the light of the gospel on every street corner. We have been too busy shining our lights at each other.

If this film does anything I hope that what the enemy meant for our destruction will turn out for our good. In that those unfortunate believers who had to witness the evil of this movie would wake up to the fact that our enemy is not flesh and blood but powers and principalities intent on destruction.

We need to wake up - no matter what end time scenario you choose to hold to the hour grows late and our lives are only a pittance of years. It is our personal end times. What will we do with our years for the glory of our Lord and King? Will we have oil in our lamps when the Bride Groom comes? Will he find us faithful?

For me, after repenting for not walking out after the first 15 minutes and subjecting myself to the entire movie. After I calmed down and turned to God in prayer with humble repentant heart.
I came to the conclusion that I needed to ask God to turn up the fire in my life. How easy it is to be lulled to sleep or to be carried away by all the distractions and things of this life. We have become desensitized to the evil running rampant in our land. Truly we need to allow the Lord to shake us up.

2 Chronicles 7:14
if my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land.

It is time to wear out our knees!

Kudos Jeff for speaking out on this one.

Posted by Margot to A Wandering Traveler at October 12, 2008 10:00

Grateful for other travelers.
Traveler

What was I thinking?

2008-10-12T08:20:00.005-04:00

A couple of week ago, I went to see a movie with a friend. I didn't want to particularly go to see this movie. While it looked interesting, I feared it would be as bad, with little redeeming value. Not bad as in horrible plot, acting and film making but bad as in content. The kind of movie where you leave and say, "What was I thinking?" I now say, publicly, that I was wrong to go see this movie.

Now at this point I could offer up some generic insights about how I felt, why I felt it and the lessons learned. But no matter what I say, the only thing you will want to know is, "Which Movie was it?" You would miss all the salient points and the nuggets of truth I might dispense. You might also take this opportunity to, silently and to yourself, pass judgment on me for my poor choice of movie and lack of moral certitude. "How could you see THAT?" or "DUH!" or even "What were you Thinking?"

So I guess before we continue any further, I must be transparent and tell you which movie I saw......

It was.......

Are you really certain that the title of the movie is That important? Shouldn't my pithy observations be enough for you? Shouldn't my revelation that I Was Wrong to see this film be enough to satisfy you?

No? Alllllllright!

It was "The Dark Knight", the second of the recent reincarnation of the Batman series starring Christian Bale as the Batman and Heath Ledger as the Joker. Not the Joker as I remember being in the comic books or earlier movies, but a more demented, evil Joker. So lets start with my observations. I my humble opinion, this movie had not one shred of redeeming value in it. It was dark, very dark, full of fear and horror, gruesome and base, demented and vile. And I ponied up $10 to see it! I had been harranged for weeks about going to see this follow-up to the first movie with Bale (which was pretty good and did have some redeeming value). Inside something told me not t go see it. And did I listen? No. I went. And the movie went on and on and on. Just when you thought it was close to the end, it took a turn for the worse and continued on its downward slide.

I think the thing that bothered me most was what I heard before I actually saw the movie then what I felt after I saw it. "The Oscar buzz for Heath Ledger, what an amazing performance he had, the depth of character he brought to the role of the Joker. Accolades and praise and great reviews abounded." Certainly it was heightened by his untimely death but that misses the point. "This was one of the must-see films of the year!" In all the reviews and effusive praise, never once did I hear anyone say, "That was a truly evil, demented film. Should he have made it all?"

How tragically sad that the last statement Heath Ledger made on this earth was the one of the Joker. This is how most people will remember him (and maybe for the gay cowboy flik as well). People gushed over his performance and called it Oscar-worthy. People talked about how he embodied the Joker and how his character was spot-on. How he really brought the character to life and make him seem almost likable. Yet no one seemed to be the least bit concerned about the content of the role, what he said and the seeds evil and mayhem he left in your mind. By the end of the film, you almost liked the Joker and thought "Yeah, he did kinda make sense, in a demented twisted sort of way." He was well spoken and used twisted logic to make his points.

I know I felt slightly nauseous and queasy when I left the theater. Interestingly, as we left the theater, we passed by a large group just letting out from seeing "Fireproof", the latest movie from the makers of "Facing The Giants." Completely redeeming, value-affirming and morally sound. People were leaving the theater with red eyes and with wet tissues. I, too, was crying inside because I has been seduced by the glitter of Hollywood and had parted with my hard-earned cash and left the theater feeling sick and, quite frankly, ashamed that I had been duped and used. We sat for 2 1/2 hours watched as evil and horror and death and destruction and torture and insanity played out before my eyes. I was not a guardian of my eyes that night. I let seep into my thoughts and soul the depravity of man, without a hope outside of the saving power of God.

Songs from years long past came to mind...."Be careful little eyes what you see..." Scripture exhorts us to guard our minds and hearts, being always watchful for the seeds of destruction that can lead to the crumbling of our walls and defenses. "Set no worthless thing before your eyes." Even if it seem fun and is "just entertainment" I must always be on guard.

That night, I was not. I am ashamed of my lack of conviction and my poor judgment. I can only hope that when I am faced with such a decision as that again, I will pass on it with flying colors, my head up, my defenses intact, my spirit and soul safe.

Being a little more watchful.
Traveler

Stale-Like a bag of opened chips.

2008-10-08T20:57:00.005-04:00

I recently chided a good blogger friend about the state of his blog. It had not been updated in quite a while. His blog was crying out for some attention. And fortunately, he watered it with some excellent words. I, in my state of pridefulness, failed to realize that I was guilty of the same-said inattention. He rightly said that my blog was a little "stale." How correct he is. I have, over the last 4 weeks, been very busy and had a number of excellent ideas to blog on. But I failed in putting any of them in written form. And sure enough, I cannot remember a single topic that I found so scintillating. So before I decide, again, that I have nothing to say, I'll say the following.

I must be more conscious of doing now what I usually end up doing later or not at all. I am a procrastinator by nature and have not been doing a good job lately of "killing the old man." My intentions are the noblest and pure yet the results are unrecognizable and non-existent. I do that which I don't want to do and don't do what I ought. I recognize myself in the 7th chapter of Romans. Although we are talking about my blog, in reality we are skirting around the issues of my life.

Do you ever wish you were someone else? The one who is always on time, the one who is the best dresser, the one who's writing is flawless, the one who's life seems to be perfectly aligned with the world and God? That person is not me.

I know that I am flawed and unvarnished, a pot still on the Potter's wheel. Sometimes I wish that He would smash the pot and start again. I mean, can't he just add a little water and reshape me into a vessel for greater use? One who looks better and is more handsome? Does He really want to use me as I am?

While I know the answer, and so do you, this little bit of venting help me to see the perspective. He knows exactly what this vessel is made for, what it's uses are and what are it's strengths and limitations. And He still wants to use me. Amazing! It is I who must learn to be content in all things, I who must see the good in this vessel, I who must trust the purposes of the Master Potter. It is He who has made me and not me myself.

Does the pot say to the Potter, " Do you think it time for a Do-Over?"

I only get one shot in this lifetime. I must use what was given to me to the best of my abilities, and beyond with His abilities and Spirit. I must not complain, chafe at the bit in my mouth or allow my joy to be robbed. I can do all things in Him, who strengthens me.

Let the Spirit refresh your spirit and blow away any staleness. Keep your chin up! And your knees on the ground.

Watching for flying mud!
Traveler

Loyalty Beyond Reason

2008-09-14T20:21:00.003-04:00

Its funny how one thing leads to another.

While doing some research for a college workbook I'm working on for a friend, I ran across a book that I found interesting for a variety of reasons. Only one of which I will elaborate on.
The name of the book is "Lovemarks: the future beyond brands" by Kevin Roberts. Now before you jump to the obvious conclusion concerning the title of the book, let me set you straight. It's not what you think. It has to do with well-known brands and the love they receive in being made and by consumers. Very interesting. Now what struck me.

The following is an excerpt from the book. Read it and I will explain at the end what struck me about it.

"If you believe in Mystery, clap your hands.

Peter Pan got it right. When Tinkerbell was clocking out because no one believed in her anymore, he asked the children of the world to revive her by clapping. Loudly. It worked. That is what Mystery needs, a surge of faith in its power.

The power of Mystery. You know it when you feel it. Marilyn Monroe had Mystery. Still does. Russell Crowe has got it-as a dangerous skinhead in Romper Stomper to Maximus to a reclusive mathematical genius.

The cloak of Mystery forces us to find our own meanings, our own sense of what is important in our lives. And it often does it through a revelation, a thunderbolt. What the French call coup de foudre. Everything changes. This is what made The Lord of the Rings, Chanel No. 5, and Red Bull into Lovemarks for their devotees.

Mystery opens up emotion. Mystery adds to the complexity of relationships and experiences. It lies in the stories, metaphors, and iconic characters that give a relationship its texture. Mystery is a key part of creating Loyalty Beyond Reason."

And just like that, I realized, once again, why I am so drawn to the liturgical style of worship. The Mystery of it all. The "smells and bells". The beautiful robes and incense and lofty phrases and prayers, speaking the way we spoke to God years ago. The stained glass and scent of holiness. The sense that He is Holy and Pure, Righteous and Just, Noble and True. The greater cause to which I want to, each Sunday, join anew.

I love the last three word of the above passage: Loyalty Beyond Reason. While these were printed in the context of inanimate articles for consumers, I felt the Spirit stirring me to, once again, cultivate Loyalty Beyond Reason for Him again. Because sometimes following Christ is not always reasonable and I don't always feel loyal. But the Liturgical style of worship encapsulates the Mystery that many Charismatics and Evangelicals lack in our corporate worship, that which we long for but cannot put our finger on, that which is missing in our daily devotionals. God has become our buddy, our pal, our good friend. Someone we "hang out with." But it has been a while since we have related to Him as Holy God, Righteous and Powerful and Awesome, the One in whos presence I cannot stand.

"Take off your shoes, for you are on holy ground."

I, like many of you, take Him for granted many times, especially in the busy-ness of my day. But Mystery in the liturgy draws me back in and reminds me of my place.

It is at His feet.

With ringing bells, stained glass and incense.
Traveler

Who's behind the Curtain?

2008-09-09T17:58:00.007-04:00

Before I get to the salient points of this post, I must give credit to whom it is due. The point of this posting is due to a brilliant comment brought to light by my lovely and gracious wife. Credit given, point is now made.

The similarities between B. Hussein Obama and the Wizard of Oz is striking.

Think back to the scene where Dorothy and the Tin Man and the Lion and the Scarecrow are meeting with the Great and Mighty Oz. How they trembled and shook and even fell down before him! Powerful, Magnificent, Great of Wisdom, the Mighty Oz was! Smoke and Fire and Sound! As we watch the spectacle unfold, little Toto, the scruffy yet lovable mutt, runs off to the side and pulls on a curtain and exposes the secret of the Wizard. With a tug of cloth, The Wizard of Oz was revealed for who he really was. A small, frail huckster playing on the fears of innocent people, ruling by might and guile and fear.

Remember what the Wizard said when the curtain was pulled?

Wizard of Oz: Don't pay attention to the man behind the curtain.

Wizard of Oz: [speaking in a booming voice into microphone] I am the great and powerful...
[then, realizing that it is useless to continue his masquerade, moves away from microphone, speaks in a normal voice]
Wizard of Oz: ... Wizard of Oz.

Or how about another mythical metaphors:

It reminds me of being a kid at Easter. Remember getting a chocolate Easter Bunny, biting into it and it was empty and crumbled and only left you with a small taste of chocolate? Remember that feeling when you realized it is wasn't a solid chocolate Easter Bunny. That feeling of being gypped and ripped-off? Behind the facade that is Barak Obama, we find only empty space.

That is what people are discovering about his Holiness, Barak the Messiah. The deeper you go, the more you find out how hollow his platitudes are and how shallow and toothless his policies will be. Even the potential Republican Vice Presidential candidate, Sarah Palin, has more experience governing and legislating the does the main Presidential event on the ticket: The Great Black/White Hype!

I hope we, as a nation, don't wake up on the day after the election with a massive toothache from eating too much sugary candy and not enough Red (Republican) meat and potatoes!

Even ignorant canines got it figured out!

Making my appointment with the Dentist!
Traveler

Am I missing something?

2008-09-05T14:56:00.002-04:00

This past couple of weeks, much time has been spent in watching both the Republican and Democrat National Conventions. I have listened to many pundits spew both wisdom and ignorance concerning both parties and all the candidates.

This is what I consider myself:
1. A Christian
2. A Conservative
3. A Republican

In that order.

As a staunch Republican, my Conservatism is a product of my Christian belief system and faith. I attempt to make all my decisions through the lens of my Christian belief system, not my Republicanism. I mean, what is being a Republican all about?
Is it about love of country or patriotism?
Is it about greater individual freedoms and restraints?
Does it concern the size of government or less taxes?
Is it about putting in judges who don't legislate from the bench?

Yes, it is about all these things and more. But true Republicanism is more about what it is based on. Where did the founding fathers get their ideas for this "noble experiment?"
Why the Bible, of course!
Not that you will hear that in any public school these days, but that is the truth of the matter. What we believe as Republicans is directly tied to the tenets found in the Scriptures. Yet, we seem to have lost our way, politically, morally and foundationaly. Rarely do you hear politicians of any stripe use the Bible as basis for any speech, piece of legislation, or position. We seem to have forgotten our roots, our place of birth, our cornerstone.
Some of us need to revisit the place of forging, where hammer and tongs created our great democracy.
A good starting place of refreshing is "The Light and The Glory" by Peter Marshall and David Manuel, followed up by the sequel "From Sea to Shining Sea." These two books help to reorient us to our national, biblical foundations, the whys and hows of this nation. The authors are Christian men who put pen to paper, less we forget. Dig the books up, share them with your children, less they forget.

Concerning the two demotivational pics at the top of the post: Having watched some of the Democratic National Convention, those two words ring loud and clear: Elitism and Cluelessness.
Both the leadership and the followers just don't get it. Hollow platitudes and pandering to special interests, the struggle for power and the willful deception of the masses seems to sum up my feelings about the DNC.
It reminds me of the saying, "If you can't dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with B.S."
Elitism comes screaming through at each campaign stop and Cluelessness is what is the masses exude. People are so desperate for leadership and truth, righteousness and honesty, they will grasp at any Hollywood-esqe attempt at genuineness. People are gullible and easily led astray. There is a reason the Bible calls people "sheep." "Sheeple!"

Fortunately, I am led by a Shepherd. I hear and know his voice. He calls me and I follow. He leads me to green pastures and cool water. He restores my soul.

Do you recognise His voice and leading? I pray that during this election season, His Word will be a guide to your voting process.

Hoping for no hanging chads!
Traveler

Promoting the Pride

2008-08-26T22:18:00.002-04:00

August 13 is a day that will live in my mind in infamy. It is the day my daughter Lindsay turned 13. I officially became a Father of Two Teenagers! Me! I mean, was it not just yesterday that she was throwing up on my shoulder and watching Barney and sticking food in her hair! Yet despite me, she has turned out to be an incredible, Godly, funny young lady. (Did I forget to add beautiful?)
Watching her, surrounded by her friends and family, opening presents and crowding around the chocolate fountain made me somewhat wistful and pensive.

Over the years, other who have passed this way before me, have told me that these years pass so fast. Needless to say, I didn't really believe them. I do now. Where have the years gone? Have I been asleep at the wheel, lost in thought. While at first glance I feel like I missed out on so much, on second thought I realize that I was so close to the action that I was unable to see the bigger picture till now. I have I been so intertwined with her life that as she has grown I have been unable to see the forest for the tree.

I had always promised myself that I would not be like those other dads who miss so much of their children's lives because of work. And looking back, I think I can say that I have kept that promise to myself and my girls. I have been there for almost all of their birthdays, promotion nights in school, events and trips and holidays and all the other things I needed to be there for. I feel a sense of accomplishment in not being able to say "What if I had been there?" I was there and hopefully, always will be. Its the least I can do for my kids. I enjoyed her turning 13 and I hope to see her turn many more.

Still lighting the candles!
Traveler

Row, Row, Row Your Boat!

2008-08-26T21:29:00.004-04:00

Speaking of flooding, we survived Tropical Storm Fay last weekend. This was our introduction to local Florida weather. We have lived in and through tornado country, earthquake country and now tropical storm/ hurricane country. Two solid days of rain, wind and staying home! No work! Yeah! We also had house guests. My sister and her two boys were on their way to the Atlantis resort in the Bahamas via Jacksonville. She wanted to see her relatives. We had planned only a dinner with her, but ended up hosting her for two days. All the flights were cancelled and they had no way to get to the land of sunshine, white sand beaches and waterslides. But, being the hospitable folks that we are, we made the best of a wet situation and had a very good time. Talking, playing games, eating and watching the Olympics (at least when the Direct TV worked, which was more often than I had initially thought).

Having not seen my sister in a couple of years, it was good to catch up and fill in the blanks from so much time that has passed under the bridge of my life. Rebuilding the past through conversation and from memory has the tendency to give one pause and play the "W\hat If?" mind game.

"What if I hadn't moved from California?"
" What if I had made a different career choice?"
"What if I had not gotten mad at God and decided to follow Him instead of following me and moving in a different direction?"
"What if Steve Bartman hadn't caught that foul ball and the Cubs made it to the World Series instead of imploding?"

What If?

I find that, more often than not, my backwards navel gazing only stirs up trouble and pain and usually provides me with no more insight than if I just continue to look forward. "Press towards the goal for the prize of the high call of God." Phil. 3:14. I mean, all the "What If's" in the world can't change where I have been, or what I have seen or what I have missed or who I could have been. Each day brings me more revelation of the mercy and grace of God in my life. Each day I am remided of my frailness and need for a greater portion of God in my everyday existance. How thankful I am that He has not forgotten me or cancelled my place in the heavenlies. Lord knows He would be justified in doing so.

Yet....

He is loving and paitent and kind and forgiving. He keeps no record of my wrongs or missteps. He always surrounds me with mercy and grace. He do not give up on me.

Flooding has a way of reminding us that He has a way of cleansing and refreshing and replenishing. "His mercies are new every morning." As I work my way through my Daily Office I am constantly reminded of all these things. His Word seem to cover so many areas of my life. The more I read, the more of Him I am priviliged to see.

So, Don't Look Back. While it is a great song by the band Boston and is OK to listen to , Dont Look Back on your past and say "What if?" Make the most of This Day!

Looking Forward (with tiny peeks back)
Traveler

Seven Days at the Links of Utopia

2008-08-03T20:13:00.005-04:00

Last week, a friend of mine, Henry, gave me a little book to read called "Golf's Sacred Journey: Seven Days At The Links Of Utopia" by Dr. David L.Cook. My friend and his wife work together to help Dr. Cook promote his book. He oversees the the website and business aspects and she the promotions. Like a good friend, I said I would read the book. I mean, after all, it was free and I like to read, especially free books. Not a large book, this was. 157 pages to be exact. But what a brilliant little this book was. Brilliant, entertaining and profound. For many reasons and on many levels. I read it in almost one setting. It captured my attention, imagination and heart. It is primarily about golf, with some fishing, art and relationship mixed in. It is a fictional story about a fictional golfer who meets Johnny, a fictional golf course owner, a Renaissance man of sorts. One week at the Links of Utopia. Yet the implications for me, a real person, were profound and palatable.

At face value, it is a tome about golf, what it takes out of you and what you have to put in to become a great golfer and to find your game. Not just mechanically but intellectually and mentally. Learning to master the game instead of the game mastering you. But on a more profound level, this book is about the deeper truths of life and spirituality. That what you do in life matters, how you live life counts and who you serve reflects who you are. When we come to the end of ourselves, what will we find? As Johnny said, "What will your epitaph say?" I felt challenged and stirred, thrilled and chastised, humbled and blessed. It's funny what the written word on a page can do to you.

First about Golf. Although I don't do much golfing these days, I did play a lot a few years back. I related to the highs of the game and to it's lows. There is nothing quite like hitting the ball perfectly. The sound of the ball striking the club face, the song of the shaft as it whistles in the air, the effortlessness of the swing, the flight path to the green. The book says it like this, "Finding the sweet spot is akin to finding religion or the taste of an aged cabernet......that's what keeps us coming back....the sweet spot is an addictive force." One of the reasons I quit playing so much was because I hit a plateau, that place I just couldn't get over. I knew I was a better golfer than what I was playing or what my score indicated, but I just couldn't get over the hump. Maybe I'll pick up the sticks again and head to the course with much of this book in mind.

This next paragraph will be a little long but bear with me. Remember, this is my blog and I am king! One of the places in the book that just thrilled me to no end and made me laugh with joy was when they talked about Face-On putting. I know I risk a bit by telling you parts of the book, but for me it was the next logical step in my revelation about putting. It started a number of years ago when my dad gave me a nice Ping blade putter for Christmas. While I should have been thrilled, I felt very disappointed. I had been having lots of trouble with my putting and just couldn't seem to strike the ball well or control it. I had been wanting to try something different. I did not want this type of putter. Hoping to not offend my dad, I hesitantly asked him if he would be offended if I traded it for a different style of putter. I could not make the blade work. To my surprise, he had no objections and was not offended. He, being a lifelong golfer, said that the game was very personal and each player had different styles and needs. He gave me the receipt and said to pick out what I really wanted. I ended up with an Odyssey Rossie I, a mallet-style of putter. I really liked it and loved the way it struck the ball. While I want to say that the choice of putter dramatically helped my putting game, it didn't. Oh, it did help somewhat in my control but not enough to make a real or sustained difference. I needed something more.
One day, I happened to be watching the Skins Game, a golf tournament held, i think, around Thanksgiving in Palm Springs, CA. And up onto the green strode the great Golden Bear, Jack Nicklaus. He got the lay of the green and sized up his putt. He then stepped to his ball. But instead of taking the normal putting position with his left side towards the hole and feet pointed away from the hole, he positioned his toes pointing directly at the hole and turned his body to face the hole. "What an awkward position," I thought. Then, using the standard putting grip, he, from the side of his body, struck the ball with a pendulum-type stroke and sank the putt. "Brilliant!" I exclaimed. "If it's good enough for the Bear on national TV, I determined to give it try. I felt desperate and was willing to try anything. It felt awkward at first, but soon I got the hang of it. It gave me the balance I had been missing and steadied my hands and swing. Surprise of surprises, it worked. I was able to sink many more putts than before. However, I did have to endure a lot of ribbing from my fellow golfers, because the stance is certainly unorthodox and goes against tradition. However, once I told my story and invoked the great Nicklaus name, the jibs and jabs largely stopped. But no one copied my style. This long winded passage brings me to this: the Face-On putting style. As I read this passage in the book, I was blown away! "Why hadn't I thought about that before!" This was major improvement on my style. It involves completely facing the hole and using a special putter, using a pendulum stoke to propel the ball to the hole. All while watching the hole with both eyes instead of out of the corner of one eye. Brilliant, absolutely Brilliant! I can't wait to get a hold of that putter and try it out for myself!

Secondly, back to the story. While the previous passage was long and winding and may not mean much to you, it was like revelation to me. Concrete answers to some of golf's mysteries. Yet the focus of the book, while it is about golf, was about playing on a bigger, more important course: Life. And playing in the Game of Life without The Giver of Life is like playing golf with broken clubs. It cannot be done well or successfully. This fictional tale struck a cord deep within me, all the way to the foundations of my life. Over the last 3or 4 years, the Lord has been rebuilding the foundations of my life, recasting the deep pillars on which my faith has rested. And like any building under construction, there is lots of reshaping, refinishing and rebuilding, sanding and chiseling and hammering. Lots of hammering!
Adding a wing here, taking down a wall there and this little book has served to sand off a few of the rough edges I still have and confirm that some of the pillars I have are still good and usable. I don't know what my life will look like 10 or 20 years down the road but I do know this: whatever it looks like or wherever I am, it will be because the Hand of The Almighty has seen fit to shape me and make me into vessel, fit for His service. Thanks, Henry, for getting into my hands a guide book for the front and back nine of life! You can check out the website, www.linksofutopia.com for information about this precious book and the ministry of Dr.David Cook.

Blessings,
Traveler

A Case for Homeschooling

2008-07-28T14:00:00.003-04:00

You know that feeling when your computer crashes and you lose lots of good stuff! I recently got my computer back and found that I could access all my stuff that I'd thought was gone forever. The following is an article I wrote for the local homeschooling newspaper last year. Thought I'd post it so that I don't lose it again.

3-18-07

A Case For Homeschooling

By Jeffery Weita ( A Homeschooling Dad)

So, having suddenly woken up in the middle of the night with a stuffy nose and being unable to breathe, I found myself in the middle of a discourse with a man, explaining to him why it was I was a homeschooling parent. Was it a dream or was it real? I’m sure that you have found yourself awakened in a similar situation, in the midst of topics familiar and unfamiliar, with people both real and imagined and later said to yourself, “Oooohhh, I wish I had written that down. I was so good and logical and sensible. I laid that argument out so well! I just wish I remembered what I had said.” When suddenly I found myself wide awake and in front of my computer, tapping furiously away, lest the wisdom of the night dissipate like the clouds of vapor on my pond, on a cool morning at sunrise.

Many times during the last 10 years, I have often found myself reverting to the defensive when attempting to explain to individuals my position on a certain subject, which is often brought to the forefront by a simple question. “Why do you Homeschool?” This seemingly innocuous question has caused a plethora of answers to spew forth from my mind and mouth, everything ranging from quality of education to parental input to Biblical mandate to “it’s none of your business.” All of which are perfectly logical, sensible answers and all of which satisfies neither the questioner nor the answerer. So before I forget my cogent and precise arguments in my state of greater wakefulness, here is the answer I would always love to give at a moments notice without hesitation nor defensiveness. I have the ball. I’m going on offense!

Perhaps the most elemental of beginning is simply Choice. My wife and I find ourselves the primary educators of our children because long ago, before we were joined in holy matrimony, we decided during our courtship that one of the tenets of our union was to homeschool our children together. We had always felt that if God saw fit to give us kids, then it was our duty and responsibility, hence our Mandate, to, firstly, raise our children in the fear and admonition of the Lord and secondly, to provide a quality of education unmatched by government schools. Now while choice is the logical starting point, it, in and of itself, is not enough to keep us on the narrow road of home education. (Doesn’t “narrow road remind you of another reference to the “narrow road” that one takes on the journey of spiritual education? But I digress.)

Which leads us to Mandate. By definition, as given by Websters, a mandate is “…an authoritative command: a formal order from a superior court or official to an inferior one: an authorization to act.” And I, being an inferior individual, am sensible enough to recognize the call of a superior being, that call to act with authority from above to shape and transform the offspring entrusted to us, taking them from young skulls of mush to young men and women of God able to stand firmly on their own two feet and with confidence push back the tide of secular humanism that they will inevitably encounter in college, the workplace and in everyday life.

Having worked in the government schools as a teacher and having dealt with them as a foster parent, my former faith in the public educational system was shaken. I mean, was I not a product of public education and didn’t I turn out OK? Was I so enamored with the idea of freedom from my kids and the ability to acquire the necessary greenbacks that I was willing to sacrifice my kids on the alter of ambition and avarice? After hard thought, and hard thought it was, we decided that, as difficult as it may be, we would follow Mandate. Thus I worked for myself, out of my home, on one income, so that my wife could stay home and be the daycare worker, the kindergarten teacher, the after school monitor, the nurse and cafeteria cook. And great the sacrifice it was to do that. Our society demands that we look a certain way, drive the newest vehicle, eat at the hippest restaurants and wear the finest of clothing. Are we not taught that both parents working is for the good of the child? “Now we have the ability to give the best to our child, (if we only had the time).” But in whose interest is it, really? The siren call of material gain is tremendous. Yet we, like Odysseus, lashed ourselves to the mast of Mandate, not heeding the siren call of riches and made the life-impacting choice of homeschooling. For it not only impacted my children, but my wife and me as well. The doing without, the praying for sustenance, the giving of time and energy. We know that we are not alone in our choices, that we are not the first to carve a trail into the unknown, for many of you have made similar sacrifices for the good of future generations. It is Mandate that pushes us, guides us, keeps us.

Mandate leads us to Worldview. What does the lens through which we view the world look like? What are we going to teach our children and Why? A Worldview, according to The Universe Next Door by James Sire, is a set of presuppositions (assumptions which may be true, partially true or entirely false) which we hold (consciously or subconsciously, consistently or inconsistently) about the basic make-up of our world. We all see things in our world differently due to upbringing, culture, education and religion. And if Mandate dictates that we shape our child’s views, what is it that we use to hone and craft modern-day thinkers? If we are uncertain, it behooves us to find out. What do we believe and why? Because what we believe will inevitably be passed down to our kids. What we think, they will adapt and call their own. Is the lens through which I view the world Cross-shaped or does it look different? If the Mandate is passed to me from a higher authority I must know what that authority says about religion, politics, relationships, business, economics, art, music and literature. If I do not know, I must find out and when I find out, I must pass it on. It is OUR responsibility to raise our children with a Biblical world view, NOT the responsibility of a nameless, faceless bureaucracy with a Humanistic world view. We would no more leave our children physically in the hands of a stranger, yet many in our society feel compelled to leave them both physically and mentally with strange people and stranger ideas. If I am not with them during the educational hours, how do I know what is being instilled in their young skulls of mush?

Worldview leads us to Process. The How-to-do-it. What curriculum do I choose, how many hours a day, to FCAT or not, am I up to the task at hand? The Mandate is a great and glorious cause, the reason to cast caution aside and ride off into the sunset on a charger of great size. Yet the day to day, week to week, month to month can wear away at our resolve. Chuck Swindoll once said,”The problem with Christianity is that it is so daily.” Line upon line, precept upon precept we shape and fashion and mold. Resolve and stick-to-it-ivness become our handmaidens. Each of us have our own process, our own blueprint that we follow because we know our children the best and what is best for them. Follow your instinct and the prodding of your conscience. Our goal is to create children who think for themselves, able to process knowledge and information, not just learners who have accumulated facts but do not know how to apply them.

Never let ones questioning of what you do or why you do it cause you to question yourself. Are you called? Do you have a Mandate? Are you following your Mandate? Is your Worldview solidified, understandable and transferable? Does your Process bear fruit? Can it be replicated easily?

So I say to those who ask, “Why do you homeschool?” the following:

“We homeschool because we have made a choice to have a Biblical worldview which says that we have a mandate from God to teach, shape and fashion our children with time-tested methods and curriculum because we are creating world shakers and world changers.” I bet you that will create some opportunities for discussion. For we are called not only to educate our own but educate others. “This is the way, walk ye in it.” It is not for our personal gain that we engage in battle. It is for the hearts and minds of our children. If you don’t step up, who will?

Peace on the Journey!
Traveler

The Start of My Travels

2008-07-24T22:08:00.012-04:00

These next numbers of posts will contain my life's journey up 'till now. My Testimony, as it were. I hope you will enjoy the written journey as best as you can, since you were not there for most of it. Feel free to use your imagination to picture the locations, situations and motivations I am attempting to present. Putting one' s life into black and white has taken a considerable amount of time and thought, and hard as I try, almost impossible to color it the way I remember, both in language and style. I can only hope that at the end, you will know me a tad bit more and yourself a little better, because we always see ourselves in someone else's story.

Traveler’s Wandering – The Early Years: Part 1

This is my life in capsule form. Taken in small doses, it can be enjoyable, but be careful not to overdose. I was born on February 15, 1964, the day after Valentine's Day, in West Covina, California. I guess I'm just a leftover sweetheart. For the first 5 years of my life, I lived in California with my mother and father. I recall bits and pieces of that time but nothing that I consider life shaping.

During my fifth year of life, my mother divorced my father and moved back to her parents home in Michigan. One of the things my mother unknowingly taught me was the importance of tenacity, which was in evidence upon the trip to Michigan. She drove from California to Michigan in a rented U-Haul truck, pulling an old '64 Rambler behind it and in the cab with her were her 3 small children. Not an undertaking for the faint of heart. Yet, she made it. She settled in Owosso, Michigan and did her best to raise 3 small kids on her own. She worked often and we spent lots of time with other caretakers, some bad and some very good. Grandma Carpenter was one of the good ones. She ran an in-home daycare facility. She could be stern but was also loving and really cared for me and my brother and sister. I started at a local public school and would go to her house after school. Much about that time is blurry and memories usually consist of remembered snapshots or of specific instances, single pictures in the album of my mind.

Through a mutual friend, she met Don Weita and within a year and a half, had remarried. The now newly formed family, (really a His, Hers, and future Ours family), moved to my new stepfathers hometown of Warren, Ohio, which would become my home for the next 15 years. Warren was a typical mid-western town, full of bicycle riding children, two story houses with basements and two parent families. I grew up in the family as the oldest boy, the second oldest child. I have 4 brothers and 3 sisters. Being the oldest boy, I usually was the local whipping post and lighting rod. When trouble struck, it usually struck me. I was stubborn and rebellious as any young boy is inclined to be. Trouble followed me like a plague. But I guess I always had the most fun, too. All the other kids waited to see if I would happen when I did something. If I got away with it, so could they. I never seem to learn my lessons. I was sharp-tongued and often mean. But hindsight seems to indicate that I was just compensating for being in a somewhat dysfunctional family. Blended families are never easy or clear cut and the best of intentions don’t always work out the way it is planned. The blending of individuals is never easy under the best of circumstances. I have learned much from my growing up years. I hope my efforts with my own family will reflect what I learned during those formative years.

One night, as I sat on the edge of the bed waiting to have my behind whipped for another infraction of family code, my stepfather,( who I'll refer to as Dad, for he really was the only father I’ve known), took some time to share with me about his relationship with a person named Jesus. On the verge of getting a spanking, I listened intently to every word that proceeded from the mouth of my Dad. But as he spoke, thoughts of punishment disappeared as my young mind grasped (for the first time), the concept of a loving God who cared for me and wanted to have a relationship with me and could forgive my sins and trespasses. And that night, I gave my heart to the Lord. Despite the fact that I was young and lacking in knowledge and reason, this incident left a mark upon me that is still evident in my life to this day. But despite my inward marking, it was many years before the commitment I'd made took hold and bore fruit. To this day, I still can't remember if I got spanked or not!

During our early years in Warren, we attended a Finnish Lutheran church. My Dad’s mother was from Finland and happened to be the church’s organist. So that’s where we went. I cannot remember even being in a church up until that time. The only memory I have of any contact with a church up to that point was on my journey from California to Michigan with my mother. I distinctly remember waking up one morning in Albuquerque, New Mexico to the sound of church bells. They were very beautiful and I remember them well. We were parked in a supermarket parking lot and had been sleeping in the back of the 1964 Rambler we were towing behind the U-Haul. Funny, what makes impressions on you at a young age that sticks with you for the rest of your life. Back to the Lutheran church. This time was very instrumental in life, although I would not recognize it until much later in my church going life. What I gathered, but didn’t realize it at the time, was an understanding of the mystery and holiness of God. There was something about being in that church, with the stained glass windows, the priestly robes, the candles, the liturgy and the formal music of the organ and choir that impacted my young life. It would not be till years later in my church worship life that I would come full circle and reconnect with the liturgical heritage that I had as a young child. I served as an acolyte and remember well the presentation of the Eucharist, the recitation of the Nicene Creed and the pattern of liturgy found in the Lutheran prayer books. The pastor was tall and grave, with a kindly smile and gentle manner. I remember the respect I had for him. I especially loved the special candle light services we had on Christmas Eve and New Years Eve. We would sit in the balcony and look down on the service below us. The tall, fragrant Christmas tree almost touched the roof, the beautiful singing rolling to the rafters, the sanctuary lit brightly with only the candles we held, the smell of candle wax. Beautiful and holy and magical those times felt to me. The Mystery of God the Father played out before my very young eyes. Unbeknownst to me, the Master was already creating pattern on the core of my being, the beginnings of an ongoing and never-ending painting.

Peace on the journey!
Traveler

Who...Me?

2008-07-21T14:06:00.003-04:00

It's amazing what lessons life teaches us and the things that it reminds us of that we don't yet possess. Last Friday, while at the local homeschool convention here in Jacksonville, my wife took a fall and ended up with a bad case of whiplash. Needless to say, I was thrust into doing much of what my wife was suppose to be doing both during the convention and afterwards. I had to run her around to the chiropractor (whom we love and believe very much in), see to her every need because she could not do much for herself. She was in much pain with a neck brace, an icepack, Aleve and ibuprofen her constant companions, (along with her ever-present ice tea). I had to take her place at the convention, sharing with parents about the tutoring program my wife administrates, running the booth, shuttling children here and there to accomodate for the accident. I at home became the nursemaid, chief cook and bottlewasher, taxi driver and on and on. I cared for my wife and children and home, picking up the slack, all while being an efficent member of Team Weita. By now you may be ready to either give me a gold medal for my selfless efforts or you want to wack me in the head for needlessly grandstanding. Neither of which I want because that is not the point of my blog entry. I said all that to say this......
I am not the servant-hearted individual that I think I am.
What I found most surprising and a little disturbing during an analysis of the facts afterwards was the growing realization that tho' I looked magnificant on the outside, a beacon or paragon of virtue and servanthood, inside my heart was not filled with servant-heartedness and doing all as unto God. What this past week revealed was how little like Jesus I really am. Instead of responding with love and graciousness both inside and outside, I like the Pharisees, was a white washed tomb, full of dead mens bones. Looking great outside but inside was still like the old self that I want to crucify. I know that I have a long way to travel to be like Him. Although my grumbling and fussing and huffing and puffing was kept inside, to Him, it was loud and clear. Oh, I long to be one whose presence causes people to gather around and say, " I want to be just like him!". Instead I am probably one that people use as an example for wayward children, a warning to heed God or end up like "you know who!" I know that God in resident in me and is working hard to clean me up and make me more like He is. I know that he loves me and forgives me. I also know that he expects more out of me, even when others cannot see what I really think. I know that I will have many more episodes like this in the future, events that remind me of my sinful nature and my need to change. I can only hope that I can apply that knowledge liberally and that the lessons will be less painful and revealing. Like the De-motivational picture above, I can only blame myself!

Peace on the journey!
Traveler (and sometimes Stinker)

Art Upon My Soul

2008-07-13T23:19:00.005-04:00

Now while you expect to open your email each day and see an email from me informing you of a new blog posting, the truth of the matter is this. No matter how much I like this new found blogging, daily postings are simply out of the question. My time and savory thoughts are too precious and rare to dispense in such a cavalier fashion. My only hope for you is that you will learn to take my blog in measured doses so as to savor, prolong and heighten the reading experience. Onto some housekeeping comments.

A few of you have asked about the picture at the top of my blog. It is an brilliant, untitled piece by an up and coming artist. Me. I did this back in 2005 while painting with my children. I enjoyed the process very much and don't know why I haven't continued my painting. I feel very passionate about art, love it very much and wish I had more talent in that arena. Truth be told, I don't know what type of talent I have because I have never expended much effort in the area of art. I tell myself all the time, "Self, you need to get a set of brushes, some paint and a canvas and go to work." But time, money, laziness and daily life intrudes on every decision I make. And since it is not a priority, it gets shelved until the next time I visit an art museum and become inspired by the great masters and find myself drawn into a magnificent piece. I am transported by the colors, the textures, the context and the perspective. Great art stirs something in my soul, giving me pause in my daily grey scale life and it pushes buttons in me. Art causes me to look inside myself and forces me to look outside at the world around through their canvases. It puts filters on my eyes though which I am able to see a different perspective, one that I hadn't though of before. At least for time, I see life differently. Art breathes the passion for life into my weary, modern day soul. The longing for a purer time, a greater vision, or an exotic place. The dew on a flower petal, the smell of gunpowder, the tear on a cheek resonated deeply in my being. Art draws upon me sensitivity and compassion, longing and hope, wistfulness and melancholy. It creates in me a greater sensitivity to the world around me. Art causes me to recognize the Hand of Almighty on the artist, his canvas and his subject. We are merely shadows and blank slates, waiting for the Master to paint His plan across out lives. All because I love art.

Peace on the journey!
Traveler (and occasionally, Painter)

Day Two of My Blogging Life - Cont

2008-07-09T21:57:00.005-04:00

Taking a cue from my friend JL’s blog, Jawbone of a Pastor, I have decided to write my testimony in a number of parts and in numerous blog postings. I feel that this will be a good starting place for a number of reasons:

1.) Because I want to. I am King of My Blog.

2.) It will be good for me to revisit my past and compile thoughts and timelines about my travels on this earth. The Scriptures tell us that when the Israelites had crossed the Jordan river into the Promise Land, they built monuments as they traveled to remind themselves of the faithfulness of God to them and so the all the people of the earth would know the hand of the Lord was mighty. (see Joshua 4). God has indeed been faithful to me, tho I have been faithless. The monuments in my life will help me to realign my future with my past and remind me of the Love and Hand of God in and along my wandering travels.

3.) This will be a labor of love for my girls, who will one day want to know the how’s and why’s of my life’s journeys. It will save me time because it could take me hours to tell it and they already think I give them too much information when they ask the simplest of questions. “Just get to the POINT, Dad!” I’ll just point them to my blog. When they have read it and have given to me a 5-page report, doubled spaced and spell checked with 1” margins that contains a synopsis of my life, then we will discuss it and their questions over guava pastries and little tiny cups of piping hot Cuban coffee, oh so sweet and with the crema on top.

Peace on the Journey!
Traveler

Day Two of My Blogging Life

2008-07-09T18:04:00.005-04:00

I was unaware how much fun this would be or how time consuming. Deciding what to include on my blog, what pictures, what to say, dealing with comments and emails, both good and bad. I have yet to decide on the nature or course of this blog. I can't seem to decide if it should be full of wisdom and pity comments or just me blathering on about things only I find interesting or noteworthy. Maybe my direction will come in time. So I think for now I'll just enjoy the journey and see where it takes me. Kinda like being on an inner tube, floating lazily down the river, not sure what is around the next bend. "Could it be a placid stretch of tranquil water or a harrowing descent into a turbulent maelstrom of rapids and rocks?" Will I become the bear or the salmon? Weeeeeeee shall see!
Peace on the Journey!
Traveler

Day One of My Blogging Life

2008-07-08T20:57:00.006-04:00

Today marks the beginning of my blogging life. I have, for quite a long time, wanted to start a blog. But for many reasons, I have not availed myself of this particular avenue. Sometimes I feel that I have lots of things to say or at least put in print. Gentle musings, strongly worded rants, words of encouragement or prayers of thanks. I view this journey as a type of catharsis or purging of my soul of the myriad thoughts that I have each and every day. I would like to think that this blog will become a magnet for millions, a place for other wandering travelers to find a word or two to quench the longing in their souls. But maybe I'm just having delusions of grandeur as I stand on the precipice of blogdom, ready to throw myself and my soul over the side of the chasm. Before I take the plunge, a word of thanks is in order. Three people deserve credit (or maybe blame) for this blog:
1) Garth Fout - he of the Foutfolk blog and friend of many years, has drawn me into the blogging world. To read of others travels and adventures brings laughter, a sage nodding of the head in agreement and somewhat bemused astonishment at their journey into an organic, self sustaining lifestyle. More power to ya, bro!
2)The Really Righteous Reverend Richard Hanner - One who is so full of a great many thoughts and opinions that if he didn't start to blog a while ago, i was convinced he would explode from being so full of wisdom, bluster, righteous anger and indignation. Keep up the good work on Antagoniz of keeping us in the pews informed and filled with correctly directed indignation ourselves.
3) J L Rivera - the newest of my friends, one who has trod the blogging highways and byways for many a year now in his Jawbone of a Pastor blog. Your life's journey has inspired me and causes me to reexamine what I believe and why and gives me graspable handles and a pallet of many colors from which to draw inspiration and pattern for my own life's canvas. Having said that, i do, however question his loyalty to a certain baseball team whose losing ways are the stuff of legends. But that's OK. There is always next year!

So there, this is my first of hopefully many posts of stuff that I want to say.

Peace on the Journey!
Jeffery
(Traveler)